#174: Sleepless

It was hot, no doubt about that. Their bodies glistened with sweat and sex. Grace nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder and he could hear her breathing slow. Not that the fan was barely cooling the air, it was that he was naked.

Last night, their first of official night of sleeping together, was hell for Peter. He barely got a wink of sleep. She protested at this same moment when he tried to reach for his underpants. She mumbled she liked the flaccid feel of his penis against her thigh.

When he protested, whispering that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, she called him a baby and refused to budge.

The tiredness lay in the front of his mind, anchoring every thought. His boss commented on his general disposition.

During smoko, the blokes ribbed him for getting some last night. He blushed at the memories of the night before, but was anxious about not being able to sleep again tonight.

Grace had mentioned it in the morning, saying he worried about nothing. It’ll take a little getting used to, but soon enough they won’t be able to sleep without the other in the bed with them.

The sound of that made him happy. He didn’t, however, explain the feeling his balls have as they flop between his own legs, and that freaks him out. He’s never not slept without underpants holding things in place. Never.

A slight ripple of a snore, endearing in its way, proves that she is asleep. He can feel his testicles on his upper thigh and the thought explodes in his mind.